I spent all day yesterday at a golf outing, driving around a beer cart. That in itself was more fun than many other Sunday afternoons, but the fact that there were several amazingly handsome men golfing, didn’t hurt either. However, Dear Readers, please don’t forget that this is me I’m talking about here, and don’t let the Reasons Men Don’t Hit On Me slip your mind. Because, well, they didn’t hit on me. Maybe I should just get over the “social mores” and just make the first flippin’ move, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I want to be pursued. I will just sit here and bitch about how I’m not, until I am.

5 Reasons Why Men Didn’t Hit on Me Yesterday:

1. I spilled ketchup on my crotch while stuffing my face with a hot dog.

2. My golf cart partner kept farting, and I think when I laughed at her a booger came out of my nose.

3. I drove through the fairway on one of the holes, blocking some guy’s shot. The ball luckily (for me) hit the cart. Sorry, guy. I would have given you a free beer, but I drove away really fast instead.

4. I wear scarves on my head and big hoop earrings so that I look like a gypsy. My aunts insist that I am one, so in order to entertain our fans best, I must dress the part. The Family Band played music after the golfing, and I don’t think our fans were intoxicated enough. I swear, cute guys, if you were drunk, you might have wanted to flirt with me just a little bit!

5. My cousin’s wife holds her dog over her shoulder like it’s a baby, and kisses its furry mouth making me want to puke on her face. This makes me unapproachable by association…plus, I’m sure I’m not very attractive when I’m dry heaving.

Things were looking up when I got home…Neighbor Bob’s family has made their way back to TN, and things are back to normal. AND…I have air conditioning now, so I snuggled under a big pile of blankets, taking up the whole bed, and had an awesome sleep! There are advantages to being single.